"Lots of girls would be in a blue funk," said he. "I could shake that beastly woman for not taking you with her."
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "When I 'm not doing you any harm!"
He glanced up from his work, and then, as if on an irresistible impulse, left the chain to come and stand beside me, as I sat wrapped up in his gift "for a good girl." He gazed at me for a moment without speaking, and I wonderingly returned the gaze, not knowing what was to follow.
The moon had come sailing up like a great silver ship, over the snow billows, and gleamed against a sky which was still a garden of full-blown roses not yet faded, though sunset was long over. The soft, pure light shone on his dark face, cutting it out clearly, and he had never looked so handsome.
"You don't mean to do me any harm, do you?" he said.
"I could n't if I would, and would n't if I could," I answered in surprise.
"Yet you do me harm."
"You 're joking!"
"I never was further from joking in my life. You do me harm because you make me wish for something I can't have, something it 's a constant fight with me, ever since we 've been thrown together, not to wish for, not to think of. Yet you say I 'm cross! Now, do you know what I mean, and will you help me a little to remain your faithful brother, instead of tempting me—tempting me, however unconsciously, to—to wish—for—for—what a fool I am! I 'm going to finish my mending."
